 | Forest Songs and Other Poems |  |
42
FOREST MYSTERY.
I.
Deep within the haunted Forest
Lies a plot of gladed stillness,
Secret as a maiden's longing,
Sweet as lovers' vows new-whispered.
Lies a plot of gladed stillness,
Secret as a maiden's longing,
Sweet as lovers' vows new-whispered.
Rarely mortal foot can find it,
Rarely mortal eye behold it;
None can tell if Autumn bleaken,
Winter waste, or Spring restore it.
Rarely mortal eye behold it;
None can tell if Autumn bleaken,
Winter waste, or Spring restore it.
Only when with sunny tresses
Blue-eyed June flies through the Forest,
Breathing love, its ominous vision
Scares the solitary hunter.
Blue-eyed June flies through the Forest,
Breathing love, its ominous vision
Scares the solitary hunter.
Woe betide the happy lover
Who with fated foot shall find it!
Woe betide the ill-starred lover
Whose o'erhardy eye behold it!
Who with fated foot shall find it!
Woe betide the ill-starred lover
Whose o'erhardy eye behold it!
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II.
Lovelier glade wind ne'er o'er-wandered,
And the sunbeams and the moonbeams,
Through the woodbine and wild-roses
Glimmering, make all sweet things sweeter;
And the sunbeams and the moonbeams,
Through the woodbine and wild-roses
Glimmering, make all sweet things sweeter;
But from rank, rich lilacs, blooming
All forlorn in that wild Forest,
Wafts of heavy perfume floating
Fill the soul with bodeful dreaming;
All forlorn in that wild Forest,
Wafts of heavy perfume floating
Fill the soul with bodeful dreaming;
And the wind comes whispering, sighing,
Through dim cypresses that strangely
Haunt the woods with alien presence,
Gloomily gazing till you shudder;
Through dim cypresses that strangely
Haunt the woods with alien presence,
Gloomily gazing till you shudder;
And, deep-hid in tangled roses,
Lurks a nightingale, and warbles
All day long and all night long there
Songs of yearning and foreboding.
Lurks a nightingale, and warbles
All day long and all night long there
Songs of yearning and foreboding.
For the blood of murdered lovers
At the root lies of the lilacs,
And the cypresses are waving
O'er the grave of murdered lovers.
At the root lies of the lilacs,
And the cypresses are waving
O'er the grave of murdered lovers.
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III.
O ye cypresses and lilacs,
Mysteries of the lonely wild-wood,
I, the solitary hunter,
Come with fated feet to find you!
Mysteries of the lonely wild-wood,
I, the solitary hunter,
Come with fated feet to find you!
Tell me, with the wind conspiring,
What dread thing of me ye whisper?
What dares yet my fate more bitter?
What new woe can ye foretell me?
What dread thing of me ye whisper?
What dares yet my fate more bitter?
What new woe can ye foretell me?
O thou nightingale that singest
All day long and all night long there,
I, the ill-starred happy lover,
I alone have found thy covert!
All day long and all night long there,
I, the ill-starred happy lover,
I alone have found thy covert!
Tell me what sad song thou singest?
Wherefore should thy warbling chill me
With its yearning and foreboding,—
With its yearning—its foreboding?
Wherefore should thy warbling chill me
With its yearning and foreboding,—
With its yearning—its foreboding?
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